I did. “Lonezh Canton,” I said, “with the demons at our gates. And you ran.”

“That’s not what happened—”

“Ran,” I continued, “with Talaras, in the middle of the night. You deserted your post and lied to the guards at the postern gate. You told them you had a mission from my father and they should let you out. So they did.”

“I remember what happened.” Sir Baramon’s stare hardened as he sat the bottle down and leaned back in his chair, which creaked in protest.

Sir Baramon’s silence drowned in emotions. He worked his jaw for a moment before leaning forward again. “I tried to take you with me. Do you remember?”

My throat tightened. “And I yelled and kicked and wouldn’t let you.”

“So that’s why you’re here?” His gaze landed on Dorna. “Come to mock the coward?”

I pulled a second chair away from the azhock tent wall and sat down on it, facing him. I smiled at the old, fat knight. “Now why would I mock you, Sir Baramon? You alone had any sense.”

Baramon’s head jerked as he stared back at me. Whatever he’d thought I would say to him, I rather doubt it had sounded anything like my actual words. “What?”

“They were fools.”

Baramon blinked. I rather think Dorna and Qown might have too.

“Fools,” I said again. “I love my father, but he was an idiot. I haven’t the slightest clue why he decided to stand and fight. If I had gone with you?” My voice cracked on the last word. I swallowed and turned my head to the side, fighting what-might-have-been’s emotional storms. I inhaled deeply. “You escaped the massacre. No one else did.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he mumbled, bowing his head.

Brother Qown sat down on the rope bed’s edge. The ropes creaked. The sound broke the spell. As soon as Sir Baramon looked up to see who had caused the noise, he turned back to me with a hard expression on his face.

“What is it you want?”

“A boon,” I explained. “I’m going to take over your role as Black Knight for the day.”

Sir Baramon laughed outright in surprise, but his expression sobered as he realized I hadn’t shared his laughter. “Are you—? What? You’re not—” He cleared his throat and started over. “We’re not the same size, my lord.”

“You and a rhinoceros ain’t the same size either,” Dorna said, “but I don’t see it stopping you from trying to impersonate one.”

“Dorna,” I chided. “Stop it.” I turned back to the knight. “In all fairness, the armor is a bit, hmm, small for you. It doesn’t need to be a perfect fit. I have a shanathá mail shirt I’ll wear under it.” I opened my sallí cloak, revealing the blue mail underneath.